objectivity does not exist.

Freddie grinned at Teddy’s grumbling - at her scandalised finger-wagging, and the pleasure she obviously took in both - and he happily settled his napkin across his lap when their food arrived, taking up his fork and preening when his companion admitted, entirely of her own accord, that the Stonefruit Inn, Freddie and Iann’s labour of love, had carved out quite a name for itself, even out in the big wide world.

Nothing the fairy didn’t know, of course - but still, to hear Teddy acknowledge it, that was a pleasure worth savouring.

“Why thank-you, darling,” he said graciously, taking an elegant bite of his dinner, chewing and swallowing before he carried on, “I’m sure we’ll be able to hold all your guests without any sort of trouble. We’re off season, so you’ve picked the perfect time for your festival.”

That other supernatural towns were apparently coming out of hiding, Hunters seemingly on the decline, was interesting news, but Freddie was quickly distracted away from the topic again by Teddy’s question about the wine, shooting the professor a vaguely cheeky smile and telling her, “Quite so, but it’s your club, darling - don’t look at me.”

Teddy gave the fairy a flat look as the waiter approached just then with two bottles of wine, pouring for them when Teddy made her selection of one from an atronach vineyard. “I’ve had their vintages before,” she said, mollified at not having to defend her club in Freddie’s eyes, “and they’re especially suited to these sorts of dishes. A touch mineral, but then, what can one expect from an atronach winery, eh?” 

She laughed her thin, bone-dry laugh and tipped her glass against Freddie’s before taking a measured swallow, getting on with eating her food. “I’m glad to hear it. I was dreading the notion of having to put them up somewhere less impressive -- we do want to avoid seeming provincial to our artistic visitors, don’t we, darling.” Teddy didn’t seem to realize that she’d slipped from prickly half-insults to talking about them being partners in this enterprise, and carried on with authority.

“One of these days you’ll have to embrace the century we’re living in, love,” Freddie countered with a grin, “-but I’m happy to be difficult if my impossibility is what you find most endearing about me.” The fairy smirked. “Never let it be said that I refuse to show my best side when requested, eh? Though I think I do resent being boiled down to one of your tedious classroom exercises.”

Taking the second half of their last bun, Freddie grinned again at Teddy’s lamentations over the universe’s ‘unfair’ assessments of her obvious snobbery, but chose to keep his own counsel on the subject, rather agreeing, as he was often tarred with the same brush, that the world was a touch too narrow and judgmental when it came to the notion of wants and standards. Too eager to point fingers, and to celebrate settling and mediocrity, rather than be seen as condoning even the loosest sense of ‘elitism’.

He smiled when Teddy touched his wrist though, and nodded his head, happy to oblige her. “Just give me the dates, love, and I’ll see what I can do regarding suites. As far as I know we haven’t anything booked too far in advance so it shouldn’t be a problem - but I’ll have Pix give things a once over just in case.”

“Now,” he added, fixing Teddy with a curious look, “-when you say ‘other supernatural enclaves’, darling, where precisely are you talking about?”

“Not tedious to me, though, are they?” Teddy snipped back. “For heaven’s sake, Watts! Be pleased that I find you interesting enough to consider you a conundrum, and go back to fluttering your eyelashes and pouting that ridiculous mouth at whatever attractive numbskull passes by.”

One of the waiters did indeed pass by at that moment -- one who happened to be tall and on the fair-haired side -- and gave them both a polite smile and paused to refill their mineral water goblets before moving on.  “Hmmph,” Teddy puffed, angling her already angular shoulders some more. “It’s like a ruddy bawdy house with you wherever you are.” This declaration wasn’t exactly fair given that Freddie now kept his hands inside the ride at all times, but Teddy wasn’t exactly known for changing her assumptions about people unless it became absolutely necessary -- besides which berating Freddie for being a rampant slut was one of her favourite pastimes.

Feeling pleased with herself, she sat back with an “ah!” when their plates were delivered, whipping her napkin belatedly across her lap and picking up her cutlery. “I’ll send you over the tentative schedule, do let me know if there are any conflicts. I’ve some small modicum of room for adjustment if I need it, and I’d rather put them up at your establishment than anywhere else, Freddie. I don’t mind telling you that the Stonefruit’s gained quite a stellar reputation even beyond Soapberry’s borders.”

Teddy finished a tidy mouthful of salad before continuing, “--which brings me to, yes, other supernatural enclaves. We all know that for safety, these sorts of towns tend to remain undiscoverable, but it seems there’s a new viewpoint on the rise. Especially as those tiresome Hunters seem to have been all but exterminated.” 

“Oh, come off it, Teds,” Freddie said with a smirk and a roll of his eyes, “I’m hardly going to object to good food, now am I? So do be a dear and put your persecution complex on hold for the evening, yeah? I’m trying, but I’m not bloody impossible - and your taste, eel pie not withstanding, is generally beyond reproach.”

Freddie helped himself to a tamarind pork bun when they arrived, making a small sound of appreciation as he chewed and swallowed, then smiled widely at Teddy’s admission that she was planning a film festival, such a thing being hard not to get excited about - especially at the Pondicherry, which all but cried out for such glamourous pursuits.

Though Freddie rolled his eyes again when Teddy began to defend herself against accusations that hadn’t been hurled, and ate another bun. 

“I think a film festival is a brilliant idea,” he said, “And I am a snob, so what do you bloody well think of that?”

“When do you intend to have it start?” he asked, “And will your Bengali nagas be in need of accommodation? Because I’m sure we could work out some sort of cross-promotion with the inn…”

“One of these days I’ll have you change your mind on eel pie,” Teddy glowered, but with an answering smirk twitching at her aescetic lips. “Oh, very well, then -- but would it bring the whole thing crashing down if I said that perhaps I prefer when you’re bloody impossible? It’s more a preference, darling, than a persecution complex. My entire life’s work constitutes unraveling and analyzing behavioural conundrums, after all.”

Freddie’s unabashed naming of himself as a snob got a thin chuckle from Teddy as she finished both her bun and her sherry, applying herself to cutting the third bun in half and picking up hers. “I’m often labeled a snob merely for having preferences!” she objected to the universe in general. “I suppose when you’re meticulous about standards, people assume it’s snobbery, straight off, no room to allow for individual preference.” She gave the weighty sigh that accompanied her usual gripes about humanity’s foibles, but brightened at Freddie’s interest in her film festival.